


Radioactivity

by ProsperDemeter



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Harley Keener, BAMF Peter Parker, Boys Will Be Boys, Businessmen, Gen, How Do I Tag, I never said I was good at this, I swear I was aiming for romance, Idk what else yay, Is there a plot? Who knows, M/M, May's dead, Mentions of Cancer, Mutual Pining, OOC, Other, PWP, Parker Industries, Smart Peter Parker, Smut, Stark Industries, Tony's dead, and ended with smut, businessman!peter, just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:40:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21713125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProsperDemeter/pseuds/ProsperDemeter
Summary: Stark Industries needs a little bit of help ever since Tony Stark passed away and with Harley  behind the helm as acting CEO things aren't exactly running smooth. So when it comes to his attention that Parker Industries, small little start up with big start up money, may have figured out a cure to cancer he jumps at the opportunity to slap the Stark Industries name on the patent. Only it seems he didn't exactly expect Peter Parker to be what he was. And that would only be his first mistake.Or an excuse for me to run back to my roots: romance.
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 195





	Radioactivity

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how this came to be. It just happened. Smut at the end.

Board meetings were boring. 

It was around ten minutes in that Harley started falling asleep, right around the time Mister Albright was talking about economics and sound structures. Logically, he knew the information was important. Pepper wouldn't have made him sit through this if it wasn't. Still, Harley had been up for just over twenty four hours and when he was forced to use the active listening part of his brain he tended to peace out. 

It had been like this ever since Tony. Pepper ran the company behind the scenes and Harley was the face until Morgan was old enough to take over. It was partially frustrating and partially sweet. She was nice enough to give him a job to do that got him out of bumfuck Tennessee. Especially since his mother and sister had moved out after the whole blip fiasco. 

He hadn't called Abby in, God, five months now. Mama and him were never really that close and damn it, did Harley wish they were. But he was twenty four now and even if she wanted back in his life after he was on the cover of Time magazine he wasn't the kind of person to forgive and forget. 

"What are your thoughts, Mister Keener?" The question was punctuated with an elbow to his side and a derisive snort from one of the members of press in the chairs behind them dutifully taking notes. He jerked into attention, taking note of Pepper's disappointed frown and the pursed lips of board members around the table. 

"About what?" He should be embarrassed, but Harley had it on good authority that Tony had been worse at his age so it was hard to feel shame. 

The oldest board member huffed. Harley called him Mister Pimple in his head… and one time out loud. "Miss Potts?" 

"Biochemical research isn't usually part of Stark Industries forte." She noted softly. "But I don't see why we shouldn't give it at least a meeting." 

"Sounds good. You'll have people reach out to them?" 

"Absolutely." 

It was only when they were alone that Harley asked who exactly they were reaching out to. Pepper didn't seem surprised he had missed that part as well. "It's a relatively new company. Specializes in biotechnology to improve cancer research. Stark Industries has been looking into some of their work and it seems like they might have come up with a possible cure to leukemia." 

"Well shit." Harley sat up a little straighter. "Are we looking to patent it?" 

"Possibly. Or maybe just offer a helping hand." 

"And get our name somewhere on that report." 

Pepper smirked slightly, almost as though proud that Harley was getting business in a way Tony didn't. 

"What's the name of this place?" He prompted with curiosity. 

"Parker Industries. Your meeting is with the CEO next week." 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Harley spent the next seven days researching everything he could find on Parker Industries. It wasn't hard to find, even if there wasn't currently a lot on the books about the young company. They had been open for around two years, their CEO was a man younger than him - twenty one and their financial backer seemed to be whatever was left over of Oscorp once Norman was revealed as the Green Goblin. They were based in New York City, around ten miles from Stark Industries in a small building that seemed to have miles of underground laboratories to work in. 

Harley's meeting was with Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy - CEO and head lab technician on the cancer research project. Harley had done his research on them too. 

Gwen Stacy - or, better known as Doctor Gwen Stacy - graduated top of her class at NYU with a double major in biochemistry and pharmaceuticals. Her journals were inspired, her brain an envy of a lot of bigger companies and she had the beauty to match it. She was twenty six and seemingly happily engaged to one Harry Osborn. Which explained the backing at least a little bit. 

Peter Parker was an enigma, much like Harley himself. He seemingly came from nothing and nowhere. Queens native, he attended MIT on a full scholarship at sixteen. He had apparently been roommates with Harry Osborn, had an internship back at Midtown High School with Tony Stark, and was a photographer of Spider-man on the side. He was shorter than Harley by a few inches, wore big, black glasses, had the softest looking brown curls, and the sort of cheekbones Harley could absolutely fawn over. He had lost his parents when he was six, was raised by his aunt and uncle, lost his uncle at thirteen and then lost his aunt at nineteen to leukemia while he was mid grad school. He had disappeared in the blip, come back, seemingly lost everything and then built up his own company in ghost of Oscorp with the backing of the only good Osborn and next to no money. It was incredible. Impressive. 

And, God, was he hot. 

Harley had expected the cheekbones. Had prepared for the soft brown eyes and curls. Had even picked out his best fitting suit to show off every angle and curve he could think of. 

Still, he wasn't prepared for what he was greeted with. 

Because Doctor Gwen Stacy and CEO Peter Parker made a striking pair in matching pure white lab coats. She had soft blonde hair that tumbled down to her chin and wore the sort of pink heels that could impale a man and he would thank her as he was dying. 

But, damn, even that was nothing on Peter Parker. Nothing on the way his shirt stretched along his chest and pulled at the top button. Nothing on the curl that fell into his eyes. Nothing on the plush, pink lips, lightly toned arms. And absolutely nothing on the way those pants hugged that ass just right. 

Harley felt a little faint. 

"Mister Keener." It was Doctor Stacy who started talking, her hand out in front of her to shake his. 

"Doctor Stacy." He was surprised he managed to make any sound come out of his mouth. "Mister Parker." 

Peter Parker smiled slightly. "Pleasure." 

"Oh that's all mine." Harley held on a minute too long, revelled in the blush coating Peter's cheeks and debated dropping a kiss onto his knuckles before the other man pulled his hand back. 

Disappointed Harley returned to the task at hand and, other than getting caught staring a few times, the meeting was over quicker than he expected. Surprisingly, Harley managed to keep track of the whole thing, he even asked a few relevant questions just to keep Peter talking and looking up at him through his lashes. It was almost coy. 

"Well, I'll talk this over with the board and let you know the decision." Harley shut the file in front of him with a clap. "Our next meeting is Monday and I think you should be there." 

"Don't make it sound like you're doing me a favor, Mister Keener." His name came off pink lips like butter and that smart, teasing look had yet to leave Peter's eyes the whole time. "You need me here, not the other way around." 

Harley laughed. "Wanna try that again, darlin'?" 

Doctor Stacy shifted almost uncomfortably but Peter's eyebrows narrowed as though issued a challenge. "Stark Industries used to be the home of the greatest minds in the world." Peter's hands were folded in front of him. "You have yet to come out with anything more exciting than a new model of Stark Phone in the last five years. You need something big that puts your name back out into the public to be seen as something other than Iron Man's bank account." 

It was blunt and cold. 

It was true. 

"And you, Mister Parker, need a company that people will respect and take seriously." 

"No I don't." Peter smirked lightly. "Mister Keener, I'll give you a call if I decide to partner up with Stark Industries for the remaining of my research." He stood up, brushed imaginary lint from his suit and straightened his glasses unnecessarily. "Until then, I trust you can see your way out." 

-_-_-_-_-_-

Pepper wasn't happy that Harley failed to secure a deal with Parker Industries and, honestly, Harley wasn't happy about the way things had gone either. He twirled his pen between his fingers and spun in his office chair. It was past midnight and way passed time for him to call the day a quits but he couldn't seem to get damn Peter Parker out of his head. 

It was aggravating. 

Peter Parker had managed to take every ounce of control Harley had over the situation Stark Stark Industries was in and rudely hold it hostage. 

If Parker Industries did solve leukemia Peter was unfortunately smart enough to know that he would have the pick of the litter from companies left and right wanting an in on the trials before they got sent to the FDA. Humanitarian awards and Nobel Prizes were on the line, as well as a percentage of sales from any patent. Peter would be smart if he took the biggest offer and all Harley had to offer was Iron Man's name and brand. And Iron Man was dead. 

He sighed, aggravation leaking through every muscle in his body. Not for the first time he wished he could talk to Tony one last time. Get some advice. 

If Peter Parker interned under Tony Stark and Tony was still alive than Harley was sure that he would have been able to talk Peter into the partnership. 

Unfortunately, the ball was firmly in Peter's court. And until he made a decision Harley just had to keep waiting. 

-_-_-_-_-

It took a week for Parker Industries to get in touch with Stark Industries. It was a Thursday, it was raining, and Harley had shown up to work in jeans that cost more than he wanted to think about. "Mister Parker is on line one, sir." Janet, his secretary, told him mid nail file. 

"Thanks, Jan." 

He shut the door to his office to be safe, sat down hard in his chair and took a deep, solid breath to quell the storm clouds in his stomach. He sent up every prayer he could think of and pressed that little flashing red button. "This is Keener." 

"Mister Keener," it sounded caught off guard, almost like Peter hadn't expected him to actually answer his own phone. "What… what a surprise." 

"You called me, Mister Parker." 

"Right. Uhm." There was a pause, the sound of fast shuffling papers. "I'm sorry I took so long to get back to you. Things have been super crazy lately." 

"I'll bet." Harley was dry and cynical. A week was just enough time to kill any hope Harley had of sleeping with Peter Parker. In fact, the young CEO seemed a bit like a douche. Just another nobody that chose the most lucrative way to make money in the biochemistry industry and happened to stumble into something that was actually monumental. 

"You have no idea." 

"I'm sure it's very hard to figure out who is going to give you the biggest share of your cancer curing drugs." 

"What?" 

Harley didn't answer. Didn't think he really had a reason to. He meant what he said. 

"I'm not… that's not… what?" Peter asked incredulous. 

"Mister Parker, is there a reason you called?" 

"Come down to my office. I have something you have to see." 

-_-_-_-_-_-

Peter was wearing ratty jeans and a t-shirt with a science pun on it when he met Harley in the reception area of his building. The whole place was empty save for a receptionist that was pretending very horribly like they weren't paying attention. 

Harley hadn't bothered to change. Honestly, he only expected he would spend an hour at most with Peter Parker before leaving and forgetting all about Parker Industries. 

They got into the elevator before speaking. 

"My aunt was diagnosed with leukemia a year after everyone from the blip returned." Peter was stiff, his arms crossed over his chest to protect himself and Harley eyeing his unfairly muscled biceps. He wasn't looking at him, instead staring at the metal doors as they were carried down into wherever Peter was bringing them. "Do you know what happens to someone when they have leukemia, Mister Keener?" 

Harley opened his mouth to answer but Peter plowed on ahead. 

"Leukemia starts in the cells in bone marrow. They survive better than normal cells in the body and if it's caught fast enough, can be treated. We weren't so lucky." The doors dinged open and Peter stepped out. With him came lights that lit up a long, white hallway with windows showing into laboratories. "May's blood stopped clotting and she kept coming home with random bruises. We took her to the doctor and she was diagnosed." Peter took a sharp left, swiped a badge and a pressurized door wooshed open. "She deteriorated pretty quickly after that. Got frequent headaches, lost fifty pounds in three months and the radiation made her lose all of her hair. She was sick more than she wasn't and when I was eighteen had to stay at the cancer center full time." Peter stopped in front of a window. Inside were a dozen rats. "We had to make a tough decision. Either I pulled out of college and got three jobs to support her treatment or she took her chances without medical help. May refused the first and died at home a few months later." 

"Peter…" 

"Leukemia isn't genetic, and I wasn't related to May through blood anyway so I don't have to worry about getting it." 

"I'm so sorry." Harley didn't know what else to say.

Peter nodded shortly. "Leukemia creates unstable and unhealthy white blood cells. All of the treatments we currently have attack all white blood cells to remove the cancerous ones from the body, right?" 

"Right." 

"What if I told you there was a way to target just the unstable white blood cells and replace those with their healthy counterparts?" 

"How?" 

"I have this friend." Peter turned towards the rats. "They have friends. Friends that have fucked up DNA that makes it harder for them to get sick and healing factors that are insanely intricate." 

Harley thought of the possibilities. 

If they could do this, really do this, than it was possible they could cure all cancers. 

"Have you heard of extremis?" 

"Unfortunately." 

Peter's lips quirked up into a smile. God was it handsome. "Tony Stark created a cure when I was like ten." Harley remembered. "It targeted the extremis cells that were growing in the body and stabilized them so that the host could live. Now, extremis is still in their system but it's no longer harmful." 

"Can you do that with cancer?" 

"No." Peter shook his head. "But what I did do is look at the formula Tony Stark created, compare it to various DNA samples of those with healing factors and those without and figured out exactly how to formulate an injection that would target only the unhealthy blood cells in these rats." He gestured towards the window. "With the help of Doctor Stacy, anyway." 

"You…" Genius. 

"Stark Industries was always going to get a part in this discovery, Mister Keener." Peter continued after a moment of silence. "I never would have gotten this far if it wasn't for Tony Stark's Extremis research. I just wish I would have gotten here sooner." 

"But you said-." 

"I'm not doing this for money." He spit out the word like it was poison. "I want to make sure no one has to go through what I went through ever again. We're still years away from human trials but I needed to be sure that if we paired with your company you wouldn't put a stupidly high price on treatments and make it inaccessible for the average person." 

Harley swallowed. Hard. "I can't promise what the board will want to do." 

"You don't have to." Peter shrugged. "Parker Industries owns the drug, which means we'll own the patent. But if you want be part of the research we'll gladly welcome your people. Lack of money for treatment is what killed May. I refuse to let that kill anyone else." 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It took a while to convince the board but Harley managed. 

It took a few weeks after that for Harley to meet up with Peter again. This time it was in Harley's office, coffee long gone cold between them, the sun setting on the horizon and pages of updates left forgotten on Harley's desk. Janet had gone home not long ago and Harley was pretty sure he was the only one still in the building aside from some security guards. 

They were talking about Tony Stark, funnily enough. Harley had a weird relationship with the billionaire and it seemed almost as though Peter had been closer to him. They worked together for awhile, Peter told him, fixed projects and tinkered with theorizing as merely an excuse to be together some days. There had been potential there for a time. Potential for their relationship to grow beyond that of a mentor and mentee. But then the blip happened. 

And then Tony had died.

"I miss him, you know?" Harley had his feet on his desk, his head tipped back and staring at the ceiling. "I think he'd be proud of this." He waved between the two of them. 

Peter hummed. "He talked about you once." 

"Yeah?" 

"Said you were the smartest kid he had ever met… well before me." 

Harley snorted. Peter smirked. 

God he was handsome. Pretty even. His lashes long enough to brush against his cheeks whenever he blinked. A damn trouble maker too. 

"Want a drink?" Harley tipped forward, his feet colliding with the rug under his desk. 

"Sure." Peter looked up under his lashes and his cheeks were tinged just a little bit pink. 

Was he… flirting? 

Harley flushed just a little. "Cool." 

He walked over to his bar on feet he hoped were smoother than he felt. He grabbed the glasses, poured a small amount of brandy in each and walked back. He didn't sit down this time, though, leaning his hip against his desk, Peter sitting down in his chair facing him. Harley crossed his feet at his ankles and sipped his drink, absently noticing that Peter didn't drink any of his but simply held the glass in the tips of his fingers. 

His eyes caught Peter swallow hard and breathe out almost harshly through his nose. "So…" Peter licked his lips, his teeth tugging his bottom one into his mouth and his tongue smoothing away the pain. "About the trials-."

Harley couldn't hold back anymore. He placed down his glass with finality and took Peter's from his own hands and placed it beside his. Peter hadn't removed his tie like Harley did, so he used it to his advantage, tugging the other man up until his breath brushed against his lips. "Tell me this is okay." Harley whispered between them. 

Peter swallowed loudly and licked his lips again but his eyes were practically glued to Harley's own lips. "I…" 

Harley groaned and switched the two of them, Peter's butt against his desk, tie in his hand, and chest against his chest. Peter was holding onto his desk with both hands. His eyes flicked up to meet his. Brown met blue and a subtle nod was all it took. 

Peter whimpered into Harley's lips. It was frantic and hard and exactly what Harley had been wanting to do since he first saw Peter Parker's picture on his damn phone screen. Peter's hand was in his hair, his other holding tightly onto the desk still as though clinging on for life support. 

Harley pressed closer, his knee separating Peter's thighs and bending his back almost backwards to get closer. He shucked off his blazer quickly, latching onto the soft skin of Peter's throat and licking a line as he messed with the buttons of his shirt. 

Peter was swearing softly, Harley's hand smoothing around his stomach under his shirt and around to his lower back. 

It was intoxicating. 

Harley brushed his teeth up his adam's apple, nipped lightly at his jaw and seered his lips back into a messy and filthy kiss. 

Finally, finally Peter let go of the desk and with a shocking show of strength pushed Harley back. He stumbled and the back of his knees hit the front of the chair Peter had previously been sitting in. 

Dazed, Harley licked his lips and tried to catch his breath. "Shit, Pete." 

"God, shut up." 

Peter dropped forward, his knees bracketing Harley's thighs and jacket strewn on the floor beside them. Harley moaned, a hand running up Peter's back and another one down to his ass. Peter dipped his head, his breath brushing against Harley's lips, and then turning abruptly to bite at his jaw. "Fuck." Harley's hips twitched upwards just in time for Peter to shift down, a hiss of pleasure coming from both of them almost simultaneously. 

Harley's hand tugged Peter's shirt out of his pants harshly, breath coming in quick little bursts and hand skimming over the belt buckle in front. 

Their lips met again, Peter having made quick work of Harley's shirt buttons and his fingers quickly grasping at his belt. Harley bulked up again, their crotches rubbing together like a spark of fire. Peter resisted Harley pressing forward for all of a second before following with him. 

Now, Harley had him on his back, pressed against the cold wood of his desk and shirt wide open for Harley to see. He had scars, and abs, and, damn, that little trail of brown hair was absolutely tantalizing. "Fuck!" Peter exclaimed around his hand when Harley's lips found the spot right before his belt. Harley smirked and kissed down. Peter hissed and tugged, hard, at Harley's hair. 

Harley crawled above him and pressed his whole body down with a dark chuckle. "Sorry, babe." He breathed into his mouth with a hiss. Peter was tugging at his belt loops and Harley was shocked when he heard one snap for just a moment. "Shit you're hot." 

"Oh god why don't you ever shut up?" Peter moaned. 

"Guess you'll have to shut me up then." 

Peter moaned again and Harley took it as a challenge. "Come on, baby." He ran his fingers over Peter's crotch, thankful for the twitch upwards. "I'm not that easy to shu-t-." Harley stuttered to a moan, his head dropped to Peter's shoulder. Peter had his hand in his pants, grip tight around his dick and stroking almost lazily around his head. "Shit." 

Harley thrust forward and pulled Peter back into a bruising kiss. Peter's hand got faster and firmer and Harley could feel heat pooling in the pit of his stomach and it was too much too fast and-. He grabbed Peter's wrist, yanked his hand out of his pants and tugged it up tight above his head, his other hand shoving down Peter's pants hard and fast. He shoved his own pants down so they hit the floor with a clang, thrusting forward abruptly so Peter cried out. 

Dimly, Harley remembered the security guards that had access to cameras that could see into his office and were probably out patrolling the halls if they weren't watching the show they were putting on. But then Peter shoved his hips upwards against Harley's own and he forgot all about that, focusing instead on moving together and chasing after the heat and fire that danced in his stomach. His breath hitched with every thrust, air mingled between their lips, no longer kissing just breathing in each other's gasps. 

Harley came with a swear and Peter came with a whimper, muscles spent between the two of them and mouths falling for another kiss. Harley's hand released Peter's, trailing down his wrist to his arm to his shoulder, hip, bent knee and back again. He stopped at his jaw, gripping it there with gentle fingers, his thumb smoothing over his bottom lip. They were gasping together, Peter's hand on Harley's lower back holding him in place and eyes shut blissfully. 

"Let me take you dinner?" Harley breathed against his lips, Peter's lashes fluttering open almost against his will. His eyes searched his for a moment, lips parted helplessly and red. Harley almost surged to kiss him again, but felt he needed an answer first. 

"Sure." Peter laughed. His eyes crinkled when he laughed. "Okay."

**Author's Note:**

> I may continue. I may not. Who knows... totally not me.


End file.
